Picked Apart and Come Undone
by vivapinatawiki
Summary: Sniper won't embrace the fact that he enjoys his work in a less than professional manner. Medic, who loves his job, wants that to change.
1. Chapter 1

_You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve_ _  
And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground_

_Dig them up; let's finish what we've started_ _  
Dig them up, so nothing's left untouched_

_Flaws (Bastile)_

_Dying slowly and painfully was still dying, even with the knowledge that you'd be back on the battlefield in less than thirty seconds._

Most of the injuries the RED Sniper had suffered were often so minor that they were easily fixed by med-kits within walking distance. On the flip side, backstabs or headshots, or heaven forbid a missile shot directly his way usually sent him on a trip through respawn, with no ailments or complaints to speak of (except for psychological scarring, maybe). Sniper seldom often saw the team's doctor.

_Today hadn't been like that._

After he drew the ire of the BLU Demoman with repeated headshots (he'd been making it far too easy today, he'd been completely off his game, but when you were drunk on the job that_ was to be expected_) Sniper had been victim to an ambush that he'd not seen coming. The Scotsman had allowed his wounded pride to get the better of him, quickly heading up behind enemy lines the long way round and making short work of demolishing his little set up. Sniper had paid a heavy price for underestimating the man, but he'd made it out alive, somehow. The Demo had neglected to check whether he'd actually completely wiped out his target, or perhaps that had been his plan all along; incapacitate him, rather than make him go through respawn fully healed. After all, you couldn't snipe foes when you were unable to move.

The barrels that had accompanied Sniper in his nest weren't filled with gasoline (thank god), but the force of the explosion had shattered them, pieces lodging themselves into the Sniper's back and shoulders as he'd braced himself for impact. At first, the fall had knocked the wind out of him, a blow to the head from the wall that he'd been launched into sending him to his knees. Then, whilst trying to stave off a concussion, he realized every breath he took was accompanied by pain and a wet gurgling noise deep in his throat. He was overcome by dizziness so intense he couldn't stand. Blood soaked into his shirt, and the final cherry on top was the sight of a large piece of metal sticking out through his torso, impaling him from behind. A punctured lung was probably the cause of his inability to breathe, or call for help, for that matter.

Sniper knew that respawn would inevitably have him alive and kicking again, but that didn't stop the primal fear that took a hold of him as the minutes ticked by, the nausea, and the tremors. He felt helpless, pathetic and stupid for not seeing that coming. Sniper sat, and waited, _waited_ for death, allowing grunts and whimpers of pain to escape his lips as he was sure no one was watching.

_This was going to be a long, agonizing wait_.

_As he blinked, sluggishly, the inevitable sequence of images one faced in their last moments overcame him. Sniper was brought back to a long forgotten memory from childhood._

_He'd been ten, and he had discovered a hopping mouse curled up in a small hole dug into the sand. It twitched, barely alive but breathing. Seems it had almost been some larger predator's dinner, but got away at the last second through some miracle. Mick debated nursing the poor thing back to health, but he knew the little fella wouldn't make it. A nasty bite had torn open the mouse's stomach, and its tiny organs were spilling out, fur sticky and slick with blood and bile._

_A few strikes to the head with a rock and the mouse was quickly out of its misery._

_Mick had buried it. To give it a respectful send off, or as to not be caught in the act, a part of him didn't know, looking back. He wasn't sure he'd done the right thing. They said blokes who abuse animals as children turn into psychos, didn't they? He'd not been the one to put it in that state, and it was better to make it quick and painless than watch it suffer._

_Right now, he was feeling like that mouse, and wished that someone had been there to extend that offer to him._

And that's when he heard the Medic, faintly, ears ringing as his vision blackened.

"_Why didn't you call for help—oh, that's why. Alright, well, we'd best get you into the med-bay, quickly, quickly! Heavy, assist me, won't you?"_

* * *

The next thing he remembered was waking up, shirtless, sticky, cold. The glow of the Medigun blinded him slightly, eyes blurred due to the migraine that persisted. The white walls of the medbay stung his eyes, but he attempted to sit up, aided in part by the fact he could push against the back of the seat he'd been slumped over.

Why was he here? Why hadn't he woken up in respawn? Even though the pain was subsiding slightly, why did it still take so much effort to breathe?

"Oh, you're conscious again! Don't move, you still have a large piece of metal lodged in your back."

Sniper had many questions, but could only manage a gurgle, which rattled in his fluid filled lungs and nearly choked him.

"Try not to breathe too deeply… It's been such a long time since I've had to perform trauma surgery… but, with respawn off now that the working day is over, we'll have to do things the old fashioned way!" His excited tone did nothing to ease Sniper's nerves. "It's a miracle this didn't sever your spinal cord, you would have been dead in seconds otherwise!"

That answered the most pressing of Sniper's questions; had the round really ended that quickly after his little accident? Or had he been out of it for so long that hours had gone by without his notice? No, the latter couldn't have been correct, could it? Medic would have put him out of his misery. He wasn't above doing that when he deemed the injuries easier to fix with a simple reset through death. _Then again, his unpredictable and frankly sadistic nature gave Sniper pause._ _Perhaps he was using this as an excuse to do things "the old fashioned way" for the fun of it?_

"Alright, I'm going to use this tool to remove it." From his peripheral, Sniper saw what looked like a giant pair of forceps. "The pain shouldn't be too intense; I've got the medi-gun on a low enough setting to keep you doped up and… well, alive, but. Can't have it on full charge with a foreign object lodged so deeply into your vital organs! Who knows what might happen?"

That answered question number two; why he hadn't simply blasted him with the gun and called it a day. Turns out there were limitations to his medical magic, then.

"You might feel a slight pinch." Medic placed a foot on a nearby wall, clamped the forceps on to the shard tucked deep into his back and _pulled_. And Sniper felt it, oh boy, did he. It was hooked on something deep inside him, because he was pulled along with it and almost toppled out of his seat. "Stubborn little thing. Brace yourself again, Sniper, I think it may be caught between two of your ribs."

His hands dug into chair's back, and he steadied his legs. Sweat beading on his forehead, it was now he became aware that his aviators had been removed, since his vision wasn't fogging up. Sniper's muscles began to spasm, his body reacting by telling everything in him to breathe through the pain but that only made things worse. He felt like he might be sick, gritting his teeth hard enough that they could crack. Then, with a sickening squelch and a loud grunt of exertion from the team's doctor, the piece of shattered metal was pulled free, and Sniper wanted to scream. Instead, all the blood that had pooled in his lungs began to escape out in a coughing fit, through his mouth and out of the wound down his body that had been left behind. He gagged, and choked, blood escaping his mouth in thick globs that stained his slacks and chest.

"There we go!" Medic cheered, casually tossing the foreign object aside and approaching him with a cloth so he could cough into that instead. "Breathe slowly, mein Freund, that's it." Medic turned a dial on the medi-gun and Sniper felt the wound close up, the burning in his throat and chest subsiding. Finally, the tremors that wracked his body ceased, along with the painful headache. He almost felt human again.

"Bloody hell." He croaked.

"Bloody is definitely the word for it. What on earth were you up to out there? I assumed something exploded, judging by the scorch marks and broken barrels."

"Demo got the jump on me." Sniper admitted, grumpily. "Arsehole left me for dead rather than finishin' the job outright."

"How did you miss that? Wouldn't you have seen him through your scope?"

Sniper's jaw tightened, irritated at his teasing. "Might be news to you, doc, but I ain't able to see through walls."

"I could change that! A little eye surgery-!"

"No." He wasn't having this conversation with him again.

The doctor shrugged. "Suit yourself. Now, we must attend to the rest of the shrapnel lodged in your back."

Sniper blinked, turning his head to attempt to see what he was talking about.

"You look like _ein_ _Stachelswein _from where I am stood!" At Sniper's confused expression, he elaborated. "You know, one of those cute little things with the long spines!"

"A hedgehog? No, porcupine."

"That's the very fellow!" He replied, nodding. "So, we're probably going to be here for a while whilst I get the worst of it out."

Down the dial went again, completely this time, and Sniper realized what he meant once it did. A raw, sore feeling in his muscles and skin returned, and he winced. "Doc, can't you keep it on me for—GHAH!" A sudden pain clenched at a section in his shoulder blade, and he was unable to keep the yelp from escaping his lips.

"Sorry!" Medic chimed, not sounding sorry at all as another piece of removed shrapnel clattered into a metal bowl on a nearby surface. "I cannot. There is only so much allotted power it has during our off hours. It's for emergencies only."

The marksman bit the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to insist this _was an emergency, _and decided to simply deal with it. It got more difficult with every extraction, even though Sniper was prepared for it this time. He could feel tendons and skin being torn with each tug, and he wondered if this was worse than the initial removal than the one in his lungs had been. At least he'd been doped up then. He began muttering, gripping his fists, cursing out the Demoman who'd done this to him and trying his best to drown out the patronizing shushes and whispers from their team's doctor.

Medic leant forward, and murmured in his ear. _"_Oh, Mick, don't be a baby, be a _man_-".

Coupled with the constant thrum of white hot pain from skin pierced by shattered metal, something in him briefly snapped at those words; he knew the doc hadn't meant to touch a nerve quite as much as he had, but venting his frustrations of the day's events was impossible to resist. "Why don't you pull y'bloody head in, you quack?! You wanna be first on me list before Demo gets his turn?!"

He was swiftly placated with an injection, a puff of air being heard as whatever Medic punctured him with was emptied into his veins. Despite his indignant yelp, the doctor surveyed him with an unimpressed stare over his spectacles, smile gone. "Calm down, schweinhund. I was just about to administer a painkiller, but I could soon make that a sedative." The playful, jovial air he was used to had been replaced with something that made him feel like he was a child again, being scolded by his school's nurse. That cow had been a stern woman, often bordering on cruel, good at her job but completely unmoved by boyish tears. He'd seen her a lot in childhood, because he'd been a victim of bullying on a nearly daily basis.

"_Put an ice-pack on it and go back to class. Real men don't cry, Mundy."_

The silence after that was heavy and awkward, save for Sniper's ragged breathing, teeth clenched as he attempted to calm his nerves. To not let tears fill his eyes.

_What it was that really did it, what made him lose his temper may have had something… well, _everything_ to do with the fact he never took kindly to jabs at his masculinity. As expected; with the environment he'd grown up in, being the only skinny, waifish young boy in Australia made him a black sheep, an outlier, an embarrassment… He didn't need to be reminded of that as often as he was. Looking in the mirror for more than five minutes to groom features he'd never liked anyway was not only a chore, but borderline masochistic. _

A few minutes later, once the painkillers had done their job and his mind was clear of the fog clouding his judgement, he exhaled deeply, turning back to The Medic, tone and expression softening.

"Sorry." He murmured, almost sheepishly.

"Oh, please." Medic flapped a hand, seeming to perk up slightly. "My usual patients consist of Scout and Soldier, that little outburst of yours hardly compares to some of the threats that have been thrown my way."

"I mean… well." He still didn't feel as though he'd deserved it. After all, he'd have been dead permanently if the good doctor hadn't found him there.

"Besides, I'm not worried. You are a sniper, you'd have to be in the next building over to do anything to—_I was joking!_" Medic let out an exasperated sigh when he saw the death glare being thrown his way. "You take my jabs far too seriously. Let the medicine do its job, and relax."

Sniper rested his chin on the back of the seat, trying to quash the tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with the earlier trauma and everything to do with being an insecure old man who'd been mocked for throwing a punch like a girl since childhood. He hated that he was still so… _sensitive_ about it. And it was why, despite remaining silent being preferable, he felt the need to defend himself. "My skillset is a little more than just… shootin' people from fifty miles away, mate… And throwing piss." _Couldn't forget that_. "Sniping's just my specialty. But when you're in my line of work, you have to know how to walk into a room and make a quick plan of what you're gonna use to take a man out, should you have to. Quickly, and-" He grunted, another rough pluck of shrapnel from his skin cutting him off momentarily. "Efficiently." He kept his back straight, staring ahead and resting his chin on his arms, trying not to jump too violently with each pluck of the tweezers. "You need to have a plan to kill _everyone_ you meet. You don't know who your next target's gonna be."

Without a face to engage with, Medic kept his eyes on his work. Amongst the broken bits of metal that peppered the tanned skin, he noted the hair, the moles, as well as the scars that hadn't been washed out by respawn due to having acquired them off site or before his contract had even began. His skin was warm, warm enough that Medic could feel it radiating off of him through the rubber gloves he wore._You didn't get men that looked like Sniper back home. Not often. The brief glimpses he would get of handsome Italians visiting Germany across the border were the only example he could think of, and his opportunity to spend time with them was brief. Their affectionate natures and tendency to give kisses on the cheeks out like candy had sparked many feelings in Medic that he had quashed down and buried for years after. _

"… I can tell that you're not too pleased about the Demoman's actions this afternoon." Medic chuckled airily, trying to ease the tension a bit, as well as quell the heat in his face.

"Mm. That obvious?" He grinned, and The Medic saw that the other's canines were pointed, vampiric almost. Sniper didn't grin often; because _that's something he would have noticed_. "A quick 'n painless death might be too kind."

The Medic cocked his head to one side, and batted his eyelids, cheek in one hand. "And what is your plan for him, then, for daring to cross you like he did today?" There was work to be done but there was just something urging Medic to keep this man_ talking._

"Er… well, maybe it's not worth the effort to go too far, doc. I'll just keep doing what I always do, that seemed to piss him off well enough."

"A bullet through the skull? That's it? That's _all_?" _Go into a bit more detail than that!_

Sniper stared over his shoulder at him for a brief few moments, but then gave a half-hearted shrug. "Thought that answer'd be obvious; that's sort of what I do."

"But isn't that rather predictable?" Medic asked, huffily, a bit put out by the anti-climax. There weren't too many pieces of metal left to remove now, The Medic having saved the smaller ones for last.

"Predictable?" He trailed off, noting Medic's expression, how disinterested he was now compared to how enraptured he'd seemed a moment ago… and something about that fact made Sniper a bit crestfallen. "Erm… did I say something wrong?"

Medic clicked his tongue, getting up to find disinfectant, and the tools to stitch up the remaining lacerations in his patient's skin. "How some people can just let things go so easily is something I shall never understand! If that man, or anyone, were to put me through what you went through today, I would want them to experience the pain tenfold! A hundred fold! Not just a simple trip to respawn like nothing ever happened!"

"Mm... guess planning out some grizzly revenge isn't my style." Then, a little bit more quietly. "_I'm not some sadist_."

Something about the incredulous tone Sniper had irritated him. "Oh! Listen to you, acting like you are above those who are, above ME, just because you can detach yourself so readily from it."

"I'm a professional-!"

"And I lost my medical licence, and yet, here the both of us are. We're on the same team, with seven other lunatics, and if you think you aren't a sadist, you are _kidding_ yourself." Pouring alcohol on to cotton, he quickly applied it to Mick's skin before he could respond, causing the other to hiss like he'd been scalded.

"Well, _if_ I am, I'm definitely not as much of one as—_ah!_—you are." Medic had nothing to say to that, but Sniper noticed the quirk of his lips, and the twinkle in his eye, and that was all the affirmation he needed.

"The part about "walking into a room, making a quick plan of how to take a man out", I was hoping you'd elaborate on that more."

"Not if I have the choice. I get the job done in the most convenient way, not the most…" He paused. "_Satisfyin' _one."

The word choice made Medic chuckle, darkly. "There is no emotional connection to a single shot to the head. They do not even know what has hit them! They can't regret a anything if their brain is all over the ground!" Medic was still looking disapprovingly over at the man who sat opposite him. "There was me thinking you'd spice things up a bit for the people who really _crossed_ you… that "plan" you have for everyone is simply just the same, isn't it? How boring."

"No. Not necessarily." He didn't understand what it was that was making him want to prove himself to Medic.

Medic was silent for a good while, deftly stitching up the wounds, making quick work of it. An admirable skill, Sniper had to admit, when you were wearing bulky rubber gloves like that. He pondered, and pondered, each puncture to the man's tanned skin making him consider. "Alright." Medic bit down on the thread, plucking the excess strands away, and began on another one. "Say perhaps… _I_ was trying to kill you." His lip quirked as he saw Sniper's head lift up, registering what he'd just said. "What would you do?"

Sniper brows folded together in confusion and he turned around in his chair to face him. "I'd call for help; someone would hear me and put a stop to it."

"Alright, say we were the only two people in this entire building, then what?"

"We're never alone in this building, though. They got cameras everywhere, I'm sure yer contract'd be up in no time if you killed a teammate."

Medic let out a frustrated sigh; he clearly didn't understand these were _hypotheticals_. Chances to talk about silly fantasies. "The power is out! Cameras are off! There is a thunderstorm going on, lightning has struck our power generator meaning you cannot respawn! I have a hand to your throat and with each passing second, you are losing oxygen!" He was now leant over Sniper, who backed up with an alarmed expression as Medic pressed curled fingers around his neck, not squeezing in the slightest but glaring at him with an intensity that shook him to the core. "How cruel of him, your team's doctor, to patch you up, lull you into a false sense of security, only to quickly turn the tables and try and take your life! _What would you do then?_"

Sniper's eyes darted to the tray of medical tools that lay feet away from them, instinctively, even though he was sure he wasn't in any immediate danger. Medic wouldn't go that far, right? He knew his limits... didn't he?

"Yes?" Medic turned to where his gaze fell. "Yes! Look, there are so many weapons at your disposal! A scalpel to the jugular vein, that would make short work of me, wouldn't it?"

Sniper couldn't quite grasp the emotion he was feeling, being at such close proximity to The Medic as he excitedly, _breathlessly_ went into grim detail about how he'd want the marksman to kill him.

"That's far too messy for my liking, mate." He said, stonily.

"Then what? What would you do?"

"The hell brought this on?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the German's baby blues.

"What? I think it's fun to discuss! Add some flare to those plans of yours. Look, an array of bone saws on the wall up there." He motioned to them theatrically. "Say you were REALLY angry with me, you could remove my limbs, regrow them with the med-gun, put me through that all over again on loop until you're satisfied!" His face was flushed with excitement. Sniper's mouth was dry. "There are so MANY possibilities!"

His nausea was back… no, the twisting feeling in his stomach wasn't nausea. Apprehension, maybe. Anticipation? _Excitement?_ What Medic was suggesting didn't appeal to him in the slightest, it was far too grizzly for him to even want to dwell on... but how eagerly the mad doctor was rattling off those examples _did_. The look in his eyes, not exactly unhinged but giddy. His own face grew hot, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He became incredibly aware of the sound of the other man's breaths, the grin that split across his face, the scent of blood, antiseptic and something else, a clinical substance that kept these walls clean, mopped up the mess left behind by the Medic's insane experiments. Sniper had learnt from past experience that this look wasn't intended to be sinister necessarily, but could never tell between a genuine smile or the look of a man who wanted to hurt him and wouldn't regret a second of it.

"Come on, I can see that fire in your eyes, Mick, I know that look. A storm, brewing behind that façade of professionalism you like to put on." The Medic reached in, and cupped his cheek. "It's alright, you can tell me _all_ about it. _I know how it is_. Talking about how you want to make _that man pay_, wouldn't that be fun?"

When cornered, fight or flight would kick in. In this situation, fighting wasn't an option Sniper wanted to present to his teammate, the man who'd saved his life less than thirty minutes ago. He'd harness the skillset of the sniper, and run, run until he was a far enough distance away that he could observe from afar and work out his next steps.

"_Gib's mir_…" Medic whispered, breathily. "Tell me all about it, Mick, _bitte_."

But he didn't. He sat, and wouldn't allow this man to intimidate him. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing his darker, untamed side. Wouldn't let the mad doctor get under his skin, rile him up for whatever fun he had planned. "If I didn't know better, I swear you'd set me up to trap me here so you could steal me organs or something."

"I could be. If you wanted me to be." A gloved finger traced its way down the marksman's chest. "It wouldn't be the first time; I have your heart in a jar, Sniper, when I replaced it so it could handle the ubercharge. What would you do to stop me, hm?"

Sniper shuddered, and took The Medic by the wrist. The older man's eyebrows shot up, but he watched as Sniper simply got to his feet, walked to where his (salvageable) clothes were, and picked them up. Once the aviators were on, he looked down at him. "I think we're done here, mate." A muscle tensed in his jaw, trying to work out what his next words should be. "… Thanks for patchin' me up."

Medic sighed, wistfully as the other man made his way to the door. _Looks like he'd simply scared him away_. That wouldn't have been the first time; some people just didn't_… get_ him, but he'd really thought maybe this man would be an exception for once. How he acted now was exactly how Medic had been years before he'd embraced the worst, most demented parts of himself. "Well, you know where I am if you want me, Sniper."

* * *

Later, as Sniper sat in his van, stripped down to his boxers on the mattress that was housed inside it, he thought at length of that extremely surreal exchange he and The Medic had. A shower to get the worst of the blood off, dinner and some time spent reading hadn't done anything to distract him from it. His thoughts were filled with the excitement and interest the doctor had shown in him talking about his work, and he didn't know what to make of it. He'd never had anyone react that way before. It was always negative, or positive in the sense of admiration of getting a job done quickly and swept under the rug. No one had ever, _ever _encouraged the potential sadistic nature that being a marksman bred into you. In fact, the idea that Sniper would suppress that _offended _him.

It occurred to him that Medic was passionate about what he did; even if nothing about the experiments he performed was ethical, or approved under any oath he'd taken when he'd first became a doctor, there was joy to be found in every single bit of work he did. In fact, every single mercenary on this team loved what they did; Engineer talked endlessly about his new inventions, upgrades he'd make, schematics he'd work on, and although Sniper could only understand the bare minimum of the things he would talk about, there was passion there. Soldier, Demo and Pyro were all their own brands of insane, giddy as school girls whenever the battlefield was coated in blood and charred corpses. Scout would brag about bashing skulls and jaws in, and even the more quiet and reserved members of the team like Heavy and Spy would let that facade completely fade more often than not, in favor of unabashed excitement.

Droplets of rain began to fall, coating the dirt outside with dark spots, tapping on the tin roof of his van, the sky darkening with thick clouds. A storm.

_A storm, brewing behind that façade of professionalism you like to put on._ _It's alright, you can tell me all about it. I know how it is._

Sniper swallowed thickly, face and neck heating up as he thought back to how The Medic had cupped his cheek and gazed at him, encouraging him. Encouraging him to have fun… Suddenly, in perfect tandem with a roar of thunder, Sniper sat up in bed, eyes wide, mouth agape as he came to a startling realization. The tone, the breathlessness, the touching, the innuendo. The encouragements.

"Oh my god." He mumbled, embarrassed that for the keen eye he had, he'd missed what was in front of him.

Medic had been **flirting with him.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Medic couldn't put an exact date on when his interest in Sniper had started, but if he had to recall a memory in particular, it had been the time he'd taken refuge in a hiding spot with him after an ambush. Before Medic could warn the rest of the REDs that running into what seemed like a completely empty check point was a foolish decision, out the BLU team had come, an uber'd Medic and Heavy duo wiping the floor with the small group of men he'd been stood with. With his only choice being to bolt, he was out of there, and it seemed the BLUs had deemed it more worthy of their time to capture the objective rather than chase after stragglers._

_Well, except for The Scout, who could very easily catch up to him._

"_Oho, no, pal, you ain't goin' nowhere!" He jeered, aiming a few shots, most which missed as he ran around in an unpredictable pattern trying to shake the younger man off. One or two managed to hit him squarely in the shoulder, causing him to accidentally drop his weapon as his arm seized with pain. Before he could pick it back up, his pursuer took a running leap, pulled out a bat, and took a swift swing at his head that knocked him off his feet._

_"_Fick dich_." Medic hissed through gritted teeth. _

_Scout loomed over him, mouth stretching into a buck toothed grin as he took a moment to brag. "Gotcha now, doc. Hope you like the taste of teeth, coz I'm going to—__**AGHH**__!"_

_The deafening sound of a rifle going off, along with the accompanying scream left The Medic staring at the scene in front of him with his heart in his throat. He remained frozen in place for a brief few moments as he registered what just happened. Turning his head, he saw the familiar figure of the RED Sniper stood in the window, realizing that the marksman had saved him from a rather cruel fate indeed. Wiping off the excess blood and brain matter the young Bostonian had coated him with, he realized there wasn't time to dwell because the rest of the BLUs would be around to see what had caused the commotion. He scrambled to his feet, picked up his discarded syringe gun, and raced back into the base._

"_Sniper?" He called out once he was inside._

"_You alright, mate?" Sniper replied from up a set of stairs. "Keep y'head down, they're gonna be lookin' for where that shot came from."_

"_Thank you for getting me out of that mess." He said, approaching where Sniper was situated._

"_I should be thankin' that little ankle biter for standin' still so long." The Sniper chanced a peek, gazing through his scope. "Don't see the BLU Sniper anywhere?"_

_"Our Spy took care of him before we made our way to the checkpoint." _ _Medic kneeled next to him, and opened a medkit that Sniper had been keeping just a few feet away from the window. Another bang from the rifle almost made Medic drop the equipment he'd obtained from the assorted box . _ _Normally he was desensitized to such things, but that had been such a narrow escape that it had put him on edge. _

"_Just got their team's medic too, that should rumble 'em a bit."_

_He said nothing, deeming it best to keep quiet and concentrate on patching himself up; he had an entire team to wait for, and he knew that it would take at least five or so minutes until respawn kicked them back into battle. _

"_Don't think they've spotted me yet…" Sniper idly muttered, more to himself than his companion. "Hm. Even if they did, they'd be 'ard pressed to come out of cover now."_

_With a relieved sigh, the removed bullets clattered to the floor, and Medic pointed the nozzle at himself to assist with the healing. The ear splitting headache that bat had given him ebbed away. Once that was done, he kept the medi-gun trained on Sniper, to help keep him alive and charge the uber._

"_Thanks." He muttered, without looking his way. "Keep an eye out for the BLU Spy, would'ja? I have a feelin' they'll have sent him up here."_

"_I'll call out if I see anything suspicious." Medic remained crouched, close enough that he could hear Sniper continuously whispering as he scanned the area outside. Long stretches of silence continued on, punctuated every now and again with soft murmurs from the man situated at the window._

"_Flounderin' bunch of idjits… turn into complete wusses now that y'nurse ain't around to patch ya up, don't you?"_

_Medic found himself focusing less on the door, and more on Sniper. The two of them seldom conversed, so this was a very new experience for him. _

"_C'mon." He crooned. "C'mon and peek y'head out. I dare you. Decorate the place with a nice bit'a your brains." _ _He'd never realized that the Australian's voice could go this... _deep_. He'd always really liked deep voices, it was one of the many reasons he sought out Heavy's company so much. However, seeing Sniper in his element was a very different experience than watching Heavy hard at work. Where Heavy would yell and sing and cheer with unabashed and infectious glee, the Sniper would go deathly quiet, drop his voice to a growl, speaking in a dangerous sort of whisper that was in equal parts chilling, but relaxing, too. How a voice could both scare and soothe in equal tandem was something to behold indeed. _

_Suddenly, Sniper dropped his scope, and caught Medic's eye. "Did'ja hear that just then?"_

_"Hmm?" Medic responded with a lazy sort of smile._

"_Footsteps."_

_Medic listened, and realized that he'd dropped the ball in acting as look out. Springing into action, Medic got to his feet, glaring at the door, at the sound of the intruder who'd dared to interrupt them._

"_Is safe now, Doktor! You can come down!"_

_The familiar boom of Heavy's voice made Medic relax. "Looks like they're back already!" He took a step forward, but was stopped by an outstretched arm that Sniper cut in front of him._

"_How'd 'e know you were up here?" That was an excellent point. No one else could have known, except Sniper. _

"_MEDIC?"_

_With a silent nod, Medic powered up the medi-gun, and walked out cautiously behind his teammate. Heavy wasn't immediately in view. It was only once the pair of them turned that they saw he was directly parallel with the stairs, in a position where he would have been behind them should they have taken the nearby doorway. Where their backs would have been completely open to an attack._

"_Come along, now, doktor. We wait for rest of team!" He said, warmly, motioning for Medic to follow as he stepped forward to catch up to them. His face fell, and he stopped in his tracks once he realized that directed at his forehead was the red glow of the rifle's crosshair._

"_Nice try, Spook." Immediately, The Heavy faded from sight. Sniper fired a shot, but a second too late, the bullet flying into the opposite wall without so much as a splatter of blood. Cursing, Sniper tossed his rifle aside, pulling his kukri out from its holster and snarling. "You're not gettin' away that bloody easy!" The room was small enough that a few blind swings could make contact with someone attempting to make their way past him, and to his luck, Sniper felt the edge of his blade connect with flesh, an accompanied hiss of pain heard along with footsteps bolting to the door._

"_C'mon, doctor, follow me." Sniper instructed, darting through the doorway he was sure the Spy had escaped through. The droplets of blood from the wound he'd given the man helped as a trail of sorts, and the two of them discussed in whispers what to look out for as they kept on searching. The base was quiet, the only thing to be heard the roar of wind travelling through cracks in the roof and open windows. _

_Medic stayed behind Sniper, an excited smile growing on his face at the thrill of the chase. _ _Suddenly, he stopped, so suddenly that Medic barely avoided bumping into him._

_Letting out a growl as he scanned the immediate area for his prey. "Where are you …?"_

_Over the sound of his laboured breathing, Medic heard the familiar hiss of a cloaking watch not too far away from where they now stood. "There, there!" Without thinking, he took Sniper by the hand, a gleeful giggle escaping his lips as he made a beeline for the room he'd heard the noise. "We have you now, Spy!" It probably wasn't wise to call out to their prey like this, but it was impossible to resist taunting the BLU Spy. "Your death will be slow and excruciating!" _

"_Wait-!" Sniper dug his heels in so that he brought the other man to a stop. "Don't jus' bolt in there."_

"_But he'll get away if we don't hurry!"_

"_We'll be at a disadvantage. 'e could have a pistol aimed at our 'eads, or backstab us before we can turn around quick enough."_

"_That adds to the fun! Besides, he's injured, that should throw him off his game a bit!" _

_Sniper snatched his hand back. "This _ain't_ a bloody game, doc. You're the one he's after, and it won't be long til' the BLU team has backup. Their Medic will be back before you are, an' they'll force their way into the base before y'have a chance to get back out there."_

_Medic huffed. He knew he was right, that was the logical thing to do. Stay safe, even if it meant letting Spy get away. The furrowed brow and disapproving stare Sniper gave him didn't go unnoticed, and the doctor's excited glee quickly turned into frustration. "Fine, I get your point! ... It's just been so long since I have been able to enjoy myself like this. It's nice to take part in the bloodshed once in a while rather than simply healing the men who do."_

"_Look, mate-"_

_There was the sound of an explosion from deep inside the RED base. They gave each other a surprised stare. Had BLU gotten past their defences already? _

"_Bon Voyage, crouton! You're not capping that point on MY watch." Soldier could be heard shouting from down the hall. "Once again, good old fashioned American brute force beats sneaky French tactics!"_

_To their relief, the people racing down the hall were the REDs fresh out of spawn, clearly ready to rip the heads off the ones who'd defeated them in such a humiliating fashion._

_"That was a total fluke." Scout piped up, not sounding impressed by the older man's bravado. "You didn't know he was there."_

_"It was a tactical maneuver on my part, son! I always check whether a control point is truly empty or not! Otherwise those damn BLUs could get the jump on us!" _

_Medic's face twisted into a furious snarl. He could _strangle_ him. _

_He heard Sniper sigh, and then say in a very quiet deadpan."We could'a done with that foresight ten minutes ago, y'bloody idiot."_

_He couldn't stay mad. How _could_ he stay mad? Sniper had seen what had happened, and said exactly what he'd been thinking. It was a refreshing change than what he was used to, that was for sure. Medic began hooting with laughter as Sniper caught his eye, not missing the amused smirk that he gave in return._

_"What are you ladies giggling about over here?! You know what, I don't care," Soldier stomped past, motioning for Medic to follow after him. _ _"C'mon, Cupcake, let's show those BLU's what's what. I have a rocket with each of their names on it!"_

"_I suppose that's my cue." Medic found he was almost disappointed that they would have to part. "I... I will see you again post match, ja?" _

_Sniper gave a small nod in farewell. _

_As the rest of the team charged out the door as a group, Medic powered up the uber. The accompanying cacophony of excited shouts and pained screams was _delightful, _as always. Medic's smile hadn't faded the entire time, and although the satisfying sight of their enemies being torn through like paper was definitely one to behold, his thoughts remained on the moments he'd been alone with Mick. _

_He then decided he wouldn't mind more moments like that in future._

* * *

Breakfast the morning after Sniper's visit to the infirmary was an awkward affair; never in his life had he wanted to be able to retreat back to his van and eat in peace as much as he did today. _And he wished for that every day_. He knew The Medic was staring, intentionally trying to catch his eye, and it was making him jittery.

"Alright. Who had the last of the Cocoa Crispies?" Scout snapped, rattling the cardboard box with an accusing eye at every man present. "Those were MINE."

"Surely no one else here would want to consume such garbage." The Spy said, his only sustenance at this time being a cup of coffee that he tolerated for the caffeine more than he enjoyed.

"Well, obviously they WOULD, Spy, coz I had half a box left yesterday, and now it's empty!"

"Ain't it a lil early to be startin' fights, fellas?" Engineer yawned, goggles situated on his forehead as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Just order some more for the next shipment, Scout. There's frosted flakes in the back if you wanna make do."

"They're stale, though!"

"Must you do this every morning?" Spy grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

From the far end of the table came the sound of someone slurping milk and Scout looked up to see Soldier consuming spoonfuls of chocolate cereal from his helmet with a slightly guilty expression. "Those were yours?"

"I swear to GOD." Scout was about to make a beeline for him, stopped in place by Heavy grabbing the back of his collar without so much as looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

_This is why Sniper liked being alone; people were too noisy, too high energy, it was suffocating. _Perhaps no one would notice or say anything if he were to slip away today. It wasn't like he often contributed much at mealtime as it was, and most members of the team were distracted by the brawl that might be about to take place. Sniper left his plate, grabbing two slices of bacon and a piece of cold toast from the pile laid in front of them, and got to his feet, chancing one glance back.

Medic was watching him go, and gave him a sickly sweet smile that made the back of his neck tingle. He turned a corner, making short work of the scraps he'd snatched, deciding that getting some fresh air out in peace and quiet would be the best use of their briefly alloted free time.

_So, Medic had been flirting with him._

_**So what?**_

What was Sniper meant to do about it? Was he meant to acknowledge it? Nip it in the bud before the doctor got the wrong idea? No... no, probably best to ignore it, rather than potentially gain his scorn; a Medic that was flirtatious was definitely better than one furious at his advances being rejected.

Sniper could try and deny that's what his intentions were. His mind had gone back and forth on it for hours the night before. _Maybe he'd gotten the wrong end of the stick? Misread his odd quirks as having some deeper, more lewd undertones, because it seemed very unlikely that anyone would have that sort of interest in him._

He'd pegged Medic as the type who liked blokes for a while now. Sniper was an observer, and he picked up on these things. There was an attractive array of men to choose from, even Sniper could admit to that, although it wasn't something he often thought about. Despite that, despite Medic being _a poofter, _the word used for men like him back home, it hadn't changed anything. Sniper hadn't considered he'd ever be seen in that sort of light by him.

Now, it was all he could think about.

It wasn't the fact he was a man attracted to other men that made him so uneasy, though. Sniper had never gotten on with the idea of people being so judgemental about who they went to bed with. No, it was the type of man Medic was, in personality. He could pick up on it, the air of a man on the brink of a complete psychotic breakdown if he'd hadn't already had one. Sniper had heard the rumours. The whispers. He'd seen the glazed look in those eyes when he'd witnessed the few times he'd been allowed to partake in murder, what the screams of pain did to him, how much it excited him to see people suffering. The maniacal laughter, the flash of white teeth.

Sniper shuddered.

Despite being on friendly terms with him, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind always made him cautious. Mick had a sort of gut instinct that discouraged him from ever allowing Medic to get to know more than he needed to. People like Medic prayed on other's vulnerabilities.

Stick to medical examinations, that's all he'd allow. He could know his blood type, risk for various diseases, even what his organs looked like when he was cut open. But what sort of person he was underneath? His history? His emotions? His deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings? That wasn't to be divulged. Medic had a lot of nerve acting like he knew what sort of man he was, acting like he knew how he ticked _better than he himself did_. No one knew, no one took the time of day to properly know, and that was just fine with him.

* * *

The odd tension between the two didn't go unnoticed for long.

Spy was the first, which was unsurprising. He dedicated his entire career to digging up secrets and archiving information that might prove useful. However, not one to gossip, he'd chalked it up to some under the table activities the two had been getting up to in their private lives, and left it at that. Not his concern.

Heavy could notice even the most subtle of changes in the Medic's behaviour, due to spending the most time with him. The way he seemed distracted more than usual when working, looking around for someone who would seldom often join them on the front lines, to the point where he'd sometimes seem disinterested or even irritated when Heavy would remind him that they had work to focus on… it was concerning. Anyone shirking their workload would impact on the performance of the entire team. But it was impossible to approach Medic about anything when he was like this.

Then, Engineer picked up on it. It had been Medic's staring at dinner, the purposeful glances in the showers, in the rec room, and Sniper's awkward, uncomfortable lack of eye contact. Dell knew the guy was a loner, but lately, he'd been harder to get a hold of than ever. However, The Engineer had more important things to worry about, and decided that he wouldn't dwell on it too much.

That was, until Scout and Pyro ended up chatting to each other in earshot of him about that very topic.

"_Whhd yuh thnns ghnh nn whh hmm_?"

"With the doc?"

"_Mmph_."

"Dunno but the creepy looks he's been givin' Snipes all week's startin to really freak me out, man." Seemed Scout was more perceptive than the team gave him credit for.

"You boys probably don't wanna be discussin' such things out in the open." Engineer piped up, causing the two of them to straighten their backs, looking guilty.

"Okay, but, you've noticed too, haven'tya?"

"Yeah." Engineer gave a curt nod. "Didn't wanna pry." He was not the nosy sort. If Sniper wanted to divulge what was wrong, that was his prerogative.

"He's been like that since… y'know, when Sniper came back from the infirmary after that shit with the BLU Demo." He frowned, and then went pale. "Fuck, you don't think he like… experimented on him or somethin', do ya? That sick freak!" Scout's knuckles turned white as he clenched his bat, looking very much as though he was on the verge of using their doctor's skull to practice his swing.

Pyro raised hands to his mask, covering an unseen mouth in shock.

"Hold your horses, son, we don't got really got proof of that." For good measure, he patted the young man's shoulder to keep him calm. "I reckon the higher-ups would have one or two things to say if that were the case. It's in our contracts that we can't go causin' any harm to our own team." He nodded his head at him, pointedly. _That includes you, Scout._ "Sides, I think Sniper would'a taken matters into his own hands already."

Scout nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Yeah, that's true. You're probably right, yeah."

"Anyway, you best be headin' out there. Heard word from the others they managed to break through that sentry nest a few minutes ago."

"Gotcha." Scout gave a salute, pulling a can of Bonk! from his bag, cracking it open with a fizzing hiss as he darted out the door. Pyro soon followed, waving cheerfully at Engie in farewell.

Once the room was silent, there was a hiss of a cloaking watch, and Dell sprang into action, holding his shotgun up to the Spy that stood next to his dispenser.

The man held up his hands, signalling peaceful intent. "Do not be alarmed, I'm not the enemy spy." For good measure, he attached a sapper to the dispenser in question, which gave a loud, aggressive beep, signalling the tech was incompatible with the equipment he'd just attached.

"You gotta stop sneaking up on me like that, hoss." Engineer lowered his shotgun. "Why you all the way back here, anyhow?"

"Needed medical attention."

"Uh, we have a guy for that outside, buddy." Engineer teased with a light chuckle.

"Do we, now?"

"… Medic not around?"

"I haven't seen him. Probably due to the fact that he's been diverting his attention away from his job, and has spent more time in respawn than on the battlefield."

Engie cocked his head to one side. "You serious?"

"I would not lie about such a thing." Spy took a drag on his cigarette, flicking ash to the ground as he leant against the wall leisurely. "I take it you've also noticed the change in our Medic's behaviour as of late? He's been… as you say, "dropping the ball"?"

"Well, I ain't out there, much, I'm usually set up on home turf to make sure no one gets through." He rubbed the back of his neck, clicking his tongue as he pondered if he should tell Spy what he had observed in the past week. "I… have noticed he's been payin' Sniper a special sort of attention, though."

The Spy gave a small hum in affirmation. "I was fine with letting … whatever the hell this is continue without saying a word about it, but since it is starting to impact on all of us, I feel an intervention is in order. He is distracted by the bushman's presence to the point that he's slipping up."

"Well… if it's as bad as yer sayin' it is, it might be the right thing to do." Engineer crouched down at the dispenser, tweaking a few odds and ends on the side of it to give him something to do as he spoke about this uncomfortable topic. "Otherwise I'm gonna have to make a start on building some new travel size dispensers for ya'll to make do with."

"You will speak with The Sniper then, yes?"

"Wait, me?" Engie snapped his head back up, a little alarmed. "Why me?"

"You have…" He spun his wrist in a vague motion, trying to describe exactly what it was that he had. "Erm… the ability to get people to talk about themselves."

"Do I?" He gave a bemused sort of smirk.

"Oui, you are approachable, and a man such as he will not want to open up about such a thing to just anyone."

Was Spy _complimenting_ him? "Flattered, but I'm thinkin' you're just not wantin' to take that heavy task on yerself."

Spy simply smirked back at him. "In part, but do you really think he trusts me that much? Does anyone here?"

"Y'know what, you make a good point there." Engineer laughed. "Alrighty, then. I'll try and see if Sniper's willin' to talk to me about it or not, 'n get back to ya." He paused, and then muttered. "Won't be spillin' the beans if it's something he doesn't want spoken about, just to be clear."

"You think I will not find out in due time?"

_Another excellent point, actually_. "Darn nose's gonna get skinned off if you keep pokin' it into everyone's affairs, Spook."

He shrugged, a cloud of smoke rising off his fading figure as he pressed the button on his cloaking watch. "Well, let's hope the good doctor can fix that up for me once he's back to his old self."

* * *

"Doktor will not talk if he does not want."

"Yeah, but I thought you of all people might have been able to get through to him, Heavy." Engineer admitted. "I'm right in thinkin' you two get along pretty well?"

"Even if we do, Medic will not take kindly to being told he is… doing bad at his job." Heavy's brow wrinkled as he recalled all the fits and tantrums he'd witnessed post battle when Medic had had enough of being blamed if they'd had a particularly bad losing streak. "Not take kindly to criticism."

"I just don't want this to turn into a bigger issue than it needs'ta." Intervention from a higher power was best avoided; if they could sort out this matter amongst themselves, that'd make the process much smoother. "Maybe just let 'im know that you're, y'know… _there_ for him. As his friend. If something's wrong, that is."

"Da. Was going to. Am worried about Medic not just as colleague, but as his friend." Misha had some suspicions as to what was going on, but that was merely an assumption, as well as not his business to divulge to anyone.

They parted, and Engineer made his way outside the base, to where he and the other mercenaries stored their vehicles, hoping to find Sniper in his van; to his surprise, there didn't seem to be any sign of him. No lights were on, and any knocks and calls to try and grab his attention garnered no response. All the usual places; the rec room, the dining areas, the outside areas gated with barbed wire fences were completely devoid of the man he was searching for; he was hard to miss, usually, being so tall. "The hell he'd run off to?" Engineer grunted; he was proving to be more elusive than the damn Spy was tonight, this was ridiculous. Just as he was about to give up and wait until he'd next see the man at breakfast, the sight of light coming out of an outside storage shed made him do a double take. "Sniper?"

"Yeah?" Called back the familiar voice. There was a loud creak, and the door opened, light spilling out onto the dusty ground and revealing the shadowy silhouette of the man. "That you, truckie?"

Engineer walked towards him, shaking his head with both hands on his hips. "Been lookin' everywhere for ya, Mick!" Slipping inside, Engineer viewed the little set up Sniper had made; amongst the tarp, the boxes of tools and weapons, a lantern, a small pile of books, as well as a sleeping bag were situated at his feet, the last item causing Engineer the slightest bit of concern as he took it in. "Uh. You been sleepin' here?" _Had Medic's weird behaviour caused him THAT much distress that he had gone into hiding?_

"Mm, only sometimes though." He admitted, with a shrug. "I like sleepin' outside every now 'n again. Bein' indoors too much makes me go mental. When I get insomnia I come out 'ere and I feel like I'm back home, camping in the outback. Sort of. Still too cold to completely feel like it's home, but."

Dell nodded, somewhat understanding where he was coming from. Engineer often found himself missing wide open ranges and the dry heat of Bee Cave.

"You said you were lookin' for me?"

"Oh, yeah." Dell took a seat on the floor opposite, thinking how it would be best to broach the topic at hand. "So. Uh. Listen. I guess you could say I'm uh… concerned about…" He tutted; shit,_ what was he even meant to say?_

"Is this about Medic?"

Slightly relieved he didn't have to be the one to say it first, Dell nodded. "Yeah."

Sniper exhaled, and leant back so that his skull lightly bumped against the wall he was pressed up against. "If you're lookin' for answers, I'm not gonna be able to give 'em to ya. I don't know why he's suddenly started stickin' to me like wool on barbed wire."

"No idea whatsoever?" Engineer probed, tilting his head to the side.

Sniper, in spite of himself, went a little red in the face. "No."

It didn't go unnoticed. "Look, it might be able to help us solve the-"

"I don't. know." Sniper said, finitely, an irritated edge to his voice.

"Alright, alright, not meanin' to push ya, sorry." Engineer was sincere about that. "It's just… his attention on you's starting to affect his work performance. 'N that throws a wrench in the works, coz without the doc around to keep us all alive 'n well, we're at a real disadvantage should those BLUs try and use that against us."

"How's that my fault?" Sniper grunted.

Engineer could sense there was something he wasn't telling him, and that it was causing him to get as defensive as he was. "Not sayin' it is!"

"Talk to _him_, then. He's the one who's buggerin' off when he should be focusin' on what he's meant to be doin'."

"True, true. I was just…" Engineer rubbed the back of his neck. "Wonderin' if you were doin' alright. Seems to be makin' you mighty on edge." And then, in a slightly quieter voice. "I don't really blame you, though. This_ is_ Medic we're talkin' about."

Sniper couldn't remain grumpy with the Engineer; he seemed so genuinely worried for him, not at all accusatory, or judgemental. He bit his bottom lip, trying to muster the words he could use to explain what it was that was going on between him and the doctor without assumptions being made about the extent of his own feelings. "He…" A pause. "I think he…" His face was growing more heated, and Sniper hated that just the idea alone was making him flounder and fluster like this. "I think he's got a crush on me."

Engineer said nothing for a few heavy seconds, and then. "Ohhh…" A long, drawn out sound of a man coming to a realization that should have been obvious. "See. That makes a lot of sense when you put it that way." He tapped his fingers, rhythmically, not looking at Sniper when he said. "And, er, how'd you feel about that-?"

"I don't feel anythin' about it. I just wish he'd quit starin'."

That explained why Sniper had been so scarce, lately. Medic had unrequited romantic feelings, and the intensity of them was putting pressure on him. "You… talked to him about it?"

Sniper let out a small bark of laughter. After that last talk they'd had, that wasn't going to be happening any time soon. "Nah. What am I meant to say? He already has my heart in a jar, what else would he be willin' to add to his lil' collection if I say I'm not interested?"

"He has your _what in a what now_?"

"Me heart. Not just mine, yours too. Everyone that got the uber-charge surgery had a transplant, remember?"

"I don't remember. I insisted on bein' out for it." The fact he'd had to remind _a doctor_ that _anaesthesia_ was required for a heart transplant wasn't worth dwelling on. Not when he let the fact that the heart contained in his ribcage wasn't actually his own wash over him, and how he was only _now_ finding out about it. It was these thoughts that made it easier for him to understand where it was Sniper was coming from. "A-Anyways… good to know you're doin' alright. I think Scout was all for beatin' his brains in since he was worried he experimented on you or somethin'."

"… Scout knows?"

Engineer felt his stomach drop. _Whoops_. "Uh…"

"_Does everyone bloody know_?" Sniper looked mortified.

"N-no, no! I mean… well…" Engineer couldn't lie. "The only ones who don't know seem to be Soldier 'n Demo, and they're never aware of anythin' going on."

"Christ… people around the base are gossipin'. Bloody marvellous." He rubbed his eyes, sliding his aviators up his head with a distressed grunt. "… Do they think we're… y'know."

"I don't think so. Like I said, Scout seemed to think his lil' obsession lately was because he wanted to experiment on ya. Harvest your organs." Maybe that wasn't too far off. "They ain't sure what goes on in his head, I don't think any of us ever will. No one seems to think you're wantin' to be a part of it." He reached forward, and clutched the taller man's shoulder. "Ain't no thing, though, Mick. Nothin' for you to be embarrassed about. Y'can't help who likes ya. I mean, hell, if that were the case, I'd be off outta 'ere and startin' up a relationship with_…" He paused, realizing where his thoughts had been headed and quickly corrected himself._ "Dolly Parton."

Sniper's lip gave a slight twitch at the corner at his comment. "Dolly Parton?"

_She'd been the first country singer who entered his head, and he did like her songs, admittedly. _"Uh. Yeah. Always been a lil' sweet on her. I like blondes, what can I say?"

Seeming to be put at ease again, Sniper's posture relaxed and he sighed, heavily. "I'm just… not used to it. The fact we're both men, as well, don't matter to me but... I don't want it gettin' out…"

"I understand." All too well, he was from the _South, for god's sake_. That's why Dell had bowed to societal pressure and married young, lived a lie and turned a blind eye when he'd suspected his wife wasn't exactly being faithful. Getting this job at Mann CO had been a blessing in disguise in that regard. _Now wasn't the time to think about that, though._ "You don't want people gettin' the wrong idea. But, I'm sure it'll pass." Hopefully Medic would pick up on the signals that he wasn't interested, and get bored. Dell recalled that had been what the doctor had done with Heavy at the very beginning, when it seemed the tank of a man wasn't interested in mixing himself up in anything more than professional friendships. The whole base had known, just like this time around, Medic was flirtatious and wasn't exactly subtle. But, it had gotten boring when he wasn't getting the reaction he'd wanted, and he'd settled with staying as they were.

Dell had to admit that it might be slightly different in this case; Medic seemed to relish the fact he was making Sniper visibly uncomfortable and embarrassed, and that might spur him on. Perhaps this little talk would put Mick at ease, and he'd be able to tune out the attention being directed his way a little better.

"Thanks, Dell." Sniper muttered.

Engine smiled. "No problem. See you around. Ya know where t'find me if you wanna talk."

As he left Sniper's little nest, he look a moment to close the door behind him, breathing in fresh air. A familiar scent filled his nostrils, acrid. The smell of smoke. At the sight of a couple of cigarette butts littering the ground, Dell grumbled. _Damn it, Spy. You'd better keep your mouth shut._


	3. Chapter 3

After dinner, when he knew the doctor would be in his office finishing paperwork, Heavy took the opportunity to pay a visit. Heavy entered without vocal invitation as he knew he was always welcome, and the tired but pleased smile his friend had given him as he looked up from his notes was as warm as it ever was. They had made small talk, caught up with what was going on in each other's personal lives. Medic talked about his projects outside of work, and Heavy discussed his family. Then the topic had shifted to the events of the day. Whilst Heavy knew he didn't have the finesse or the vocabulary to properly convey how he felt, it had turned out better than expected. Medic seemed wistful, guilty, almost, when Heavy confessed his concerns. This time, he'd been entirely willing to accept responsibility for the current lackluster performance of RED.

"I know I have been… distracted." He admitted, biting on his bottom lip, pensively. "I am well aware."

"What is wrong, doktor? You can tell Heavy."

Ludwig knew he _could_ tell Heavy anything without fear of ridicule, without worrying about scaring him away. Their friendship was strong enough to withstand anything.

The biggest indicator of that had been when Ludwig had attempted to ignite an intimate relationship with him, in the starting months of their contract. The attraction to this broad-shouldered, booming voiced bear of a man had been immediate, but as much as he'd tried to instigate something, give hints, even flat out ask, Heavy had not budged. Heavy had simply not been interested. The rejection had hurt, but he'd managed to stay afloat because despite this, something that could have very well changed the relationship they'd built up until this point, it didn't make a damn bit of difference to Misha that he was attracted to him. His respect for the doctor hadn't waned in the slightest.

"_Doesn't this make you uncomfortable?"_

"_Doktor has performed surgery on heart, with pet birds in ribcage. Not much can make Heavy uncomfortable after that." _

"It's the Sniper…" Medic said, his sentence ending on a gentle sigh as he smiled. "I never realized until recently... how charming he is."

Heavy had suspected as much. He couldn't quite see where his friend was coming from (a man who urinated in jars and lurked in the shadows like some kind of cryptid didn't appeal to Misha's personal tastes) but he'd take his word for it. There must have been something that he was missing to spark this sudden affection. "Doktor has crush on Sniper." He said it as a statement, not a question.

"I suppose that's what you could call it." He pressed a hand to his face, still grinning. "I've been looking for reasons to seek him out. We spend so little time together… In fact, I think he's been avoiding me. I keep trying to catch him when I know he won't be able to get away."

"You scare him." Misha said, putting it bluntly. At Medic's reproachful gaze, he continued. "You scare everyone on team, Ludwig. Man like Sniper is not used to…" Trying to find the correct word in English took him a few moments. "Intensity. Like this."

Medic nodded, slowly. "You know, I think you may be right… I don't know how else to be, though! _You_ know better than anyone how I am! I'm a passionate person."

The large man couldn't help a chuckle. "Heavy knows. That time you called me into your office wearing nothing but gloves-"

Medic tittered; from what he recalled, he'd also covered his privates with a blanket as he'd leisurely lay on his examination table but Misha hadn't seen that before he'd covered his eyes and left the room. "I do not beat around the bush!"

"You get straight to point! Always have!" After their laughter died down, Heavy's expression turned somewhat serious. "You want… to become involved with Sniper, da?"

"I… would like that very much, yes." _Or at least have the opportunity to properly ask._

"Then… You must give space." He concluded. "Sniper will find out Doktor's best parts… the not so scary parts. You must give him time to approach you. Like tiny bird. Bird will only take seeds from hands if you are calm, and quiet. If you try to chase skittish little bird, they will just fly away." As if to illustrate this further, he placed a hand out on the desk nearby where Archimedes was sat. The small dove cocked its head to one side, rustled its feathers, and then hopped into Heavy's giant palm, making himself at home.

Medic leant back in his seat, watching his dear friend gently scratch the back of the bird's head. He let out a puff of air between his lips, enough to make the curl on his forehead flick upwards for a moment. "Oh, fine, you've convinced me." He finally said, smirking. "It's time that I stopped allowing this attraction to him distract me so much. I will focus on making my work a priority. I need to make up for the last few days."

"Very good!" Heavy cheered, pumping his free fist and then patting Medic heartily on the back. "Nice to see doctor back to old self!"

The thing Heavy was missing, though, was that underneath that façade Sniper liked to put on, of professional distance, of discomfort at his scrutiny, he knew passion was there, too. Medic could sniff it out; he knew the look of a man who repressed themselves far too much. Sure, he'd back off, make his intentions less obvious, but… he didn't think a little push in the right direction every now and again would hurt.

Medic would simply play the waiting game.

* * *

The week extended on, the weather in the town of Teufort as intense and dry as ever, enough that the small pool of water underneath the bridge that extended to the two bases was beginning to dry up. Sniper didn't much like being positioned here; the only real spots that he could use as a vantage point were so out in the open. Trying to be covert just wasn't feasible, and it was ridiculous to attempt to fire a shot at anyone that might be making their way over to snag the intelligence when the other team's Sniper was on his ass constantly. It would usually turn into a battle of wits between himself and his counterpart, the only moments of respite to actually focus on aiding the team being when the fellow sniper was down for the count in respawn.

With a grumble, Sniper retreated from the terrace, removing his hat and wiping sweat off his brow. Break time, he thought. Just a small one. He knew Engineer had water bottles in his dispenser, and that sounded like a ruddy good idea right about now. He hazarded a guess that the Texan would be down in the intel room, his dispenser down there with him.

The tell-tale beep of the sentry, as well as the clanging sound of a wrench confirmed his theory. However, before he took a step inside, he paused, hearing two voices conversing quietly, and wondering if he should wait a moment before cutting through.

"What'cha teleportin' down here fer, huh?" He heard Dell say.

"Perhaps I just wanted to visit my favourite cowboy before I head out." Sniper recognized that voice as Spy's.

"_W-what_?" The sounds of tinkering stopped, clearly indicating what he said had thrown him a bit. Then, a spluttering laugh. "Aw, git'outta here with that talk, Spy. You want somethin', don'tcha?"

"Must you always assume I have an ulterior motive?"

"You always _do _have an ulterior motive. Yer not one for small talk."

Spy gave a soft laugh. "You cannot be fooled, can you? You know me so well, mon ami." His tone changed slightly, more business-like. "You spoke with Sniper, yes?"

Sniper had been about to leave, but the sound of his name influenced him to linger there for a bit.

"I did."

"And?"

"I said I wouldn't go tellin' you if he wanted to keep it to himself. If you really wanna know, ask him personally."

"You know I won't be doing such things… Do you at least feel progress was made?"

"I reckon' so. I asked Heavy to talk to Medic, too. Not sure if he did or not."

Sniper heard the flick of a lighter, and the long exhale Spy did whenever he smoked. "Well. The doctor seems to be back to focusing on work, either way. Unfortunately, we are currently at a stalemate, because both sides are in good form, and aren't giving up so easily."

"Gonna be a mighty long day, then." Engineer gave a small laugh.

"Oui, that is why I thought I would keep you company." Spy's voice was slightly simpering, teasing him. "You must get so lonely down here all by yourself!"

"Nah. Pyro comes down here to check up on things. Checks to see if no good backstabbin' snakes are lingerin' about. A lot like somebody I know, actually." The tone of voice Dell had was fond, though, despite his cutting words.

"So cruel. I took the time out of my busy day to see you!"

"Y'didn't have'ta…" Engineer mumbled.

Sniper was getting a feeling akin to second-hand embarrassment. Somehow, he knew this wasn't a moment he should be listening in on. Not wanting to be caught in the act, he made a beeline for the end of the corridor to hide out of sight.

"I suppose I shall depart." Spy said, stubbing the cigarette out on the sentry, which earned him a scowl from the other man. "Since you will not share the information you have found out, I guess I'll have to go about it the hard way." There was a loud hiss, and The Spy quickly vanished.

"Whatever, Spy. I dunno why yer actin' like you don't know." Engineer muttered.

"_Quoi_?" Spy's disembodied voice asked.

"I know you were listenin' to us that night."

Dell heard the tap of footsteps behind him, and heard Spy uncloak. He turned, and saw Spy looking at him, questioningly. "What makes you say that?"

"The cigarette butts on the ground. Thought you could cover y'tracks better than that, though." Engineer joked, but his brows furrowed underneath his goggles as Spy's stare intensified.

"What time did you talk with the Sniper?"

"Uh… 'bout… 8PM, I think?"

Spy shook his head. "_Non, non_. I was taking a phone call at that time. I spent time in the rec room after that, until I decided to retire early. Demoman and Scout can vouch for me. I assure you, Engineer, I was not listening in on your conversation last night."

Engineer felt the pit of his stomach drop. "If… if those weren't your cigarettes, then who-?" A pause, and then he straightened up, blanching. "Aw, _hell_."

* * *

Sniper had retreated back up the stairs, deciding he'd wait to have his break in a moment or two, and he'd take the teleporter the next time so that he didn't burst in on any awkward conversations. He wasn't sure how he was meant to feel about the fact that Spy had been the one to insist Engineer speak with him; a part of him felt slightly angry. Dell had already revealed that nearly the entire team was aware of the situation, even if they didn't know all the facts. But telling each other to check on him? Even if their intentions were well meaning, Sniper bristled at the idea that multiple people were trying to get in on his business like this.

_Wasn't their bloody concern._ No one gave a damn about anyone's business around here until it became gossip worthy.

He'd remained walking, lost in thought, and realized that he had taken the flight of stairs that led to the giant pipelines underneath the base. It was dank, and the florescent light was flickering somewhat due to lack of maintenance, but at least it was quiet, and cooler. Sniper felt the small pool of water slosh with each step, and he made his way to where the pipes formed a bend. The sounds of gunfire and muffled explosions could be heard from above.

Mick exhaled, deeply, removing his sunglasses, and rubbing his tired eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. This was ridiculous. This matter was causing him a ridiculous amount of unneeded stress. In the grand scheme of things, this whole affair was absolutely trivial. Sniper had been through more intense trials than this. He gave a nasally huff through his nose, an irritable laugh of sorts. Sniper had been on the brink of almost dying for real that day in the medical wing, had suffered bodily trauma, intense pain and blood loss, but the thing that had stuck with him and put him on edge every waking moment… was The Medic giving him that uncomfortable sort of attention?

_It wasn't just that, though, was it? It was how he insinuated that you were a complete head-case. A psycho, someone who took great pleasure in killin', like him. Got off to it, like him._

No. It wasn't true. The things he said, they weren't true. He'd told himself that over and over. Suddenly, the words that his father had told him over the phone the last time he'd allowed the chance to speak with him echoed in his mind.

"_Y'fall off the map for a year, and suddenly you phone up outta_ the blue _tellin' me you're some kinda crazed gunman now?"_

Mick wasn't some raving lunatic with a lust for blood and watching heads roll. He wasn't. Dad used to always encourage his hunting, even given him pointers and joined in. It was how they'd bonded. Why the hell was it such an issue if what was at the end of the scope was a person? It put food on the table; on their table. Or it had, until his parents, out of principle, disallowed it, and cut off all ties. Disowned him.

Sniper suddenly felt a pang of loneliness that he'd not allowed himself to feel in a while.

"_It's alright." The Medic in his memory whispered, reassuringly. "You can tell me all about it. I know how it is."_

Mick had to get back out there; he couldn't sulk down here all day. He couldn't let his thoughts consume him. As he stood up, he heard the loud splashes of someone running down the pipe that made a pathway to the river outside, and he pulled out his rifle, aiming his scope where he estimated anyone darting around the corner would have their head up to.

"Fuck, _fuck, fuck_." A voice hissed, almost inaudible over the splashing. Finally, the figure came in view, and Sniper couldn't stop the reaction he had to seeing The RED Medic's familiar visage zoomed right in close.

He jerked back, lowering his scope, almost bumping his back up against the wall. "Medic?"

Alarmed, Medic looked up, eyes wide, his white coat soaked in blood as he held an arm that was bleeding profusely. "Oh! I- I didn't think anyone else would be down here."

"Uh… you alright?" Sniper said, awkwardly, gesturing to his arm. "Looks bad."

"Oh, _ja_. I will be fine, it looks a lot worse than it actually is." He chuckled. "There should be a medkit somewhere here, yes?"

Sniper motioned to the small stockpile of bullets and medical supplies they kept in a corner for emergencies, watching as the other man made his way over to it and began pulling out the required tools. "Not to question your medical knowledge doc, but uh… that looks like it might need patchin' up with the medi-gun."

"No, no, it's fine! Nothing a little gauze won't see to!" He insisted without looking his way.

Quietly, Sniper stared at his back; he should be leaving, but something in him was preventing his feet from working. The sudden, unexpected arrival of the man he'd just been thinking about was somewhat alarming. Not that he hadn't seen him in a while; Medic had taken an opportunity or two to visit him for brief moments during when he should be out with the rest of the team, but he'd been very chatty then. Now, a silence stretched on between them, somewhat awkward as he focused on his work.

"Erm…" Mick muttered. "Listen, I… I wanted to, uh. Talk to you about something." Medic turned his head slightly to indicate he was listening before continuing to keep his back to him. "About the… the, um." He sounded like a fool, right now, he knew it. "Y'know what. Don't matter. I should probably-"

"Is this about how I've been acting as of late?" Medic asked, wrapping a bandage around his arm and ripping the end off with his teeth. The sight of it made Sniper press his lips together in a thin line.

"Yeah." He grunted, looking away.

He heard a soft laugh from the other man, which made him tilt his gaze back. Medic now stood, smiling, sweetly, as sweetly as he had done the time they'd caught eyes at the breakfast table. "Is it not obvious? I'm very interested in you, Mick."

Sniper had known this already, but hearing Medic confirm it made his pulse quicken, and suddenly he felt like running away again. But, he remained frozen, eyes wide, his stare like a deer in headlights now that his aviators were off. "You… y-yeah, I. I had a feelin' you were, um…"

Tenderly, Medic reached a hand out, brushing Sniper's cheek with the back of his gloved palm, which almost made him jump out of his skin. "Oh, just look at you. You are so nervous! You are not used to this kind of attention, are you, _Schatz_?"

"M… M-Medic, listen." He took the doctor by the wrist, pulling the hand away from him, but not letting go. "Listen, mate. I… I really think you should…"

"Should what?" Medic blinked. Sniper realized the man had quite long eyelashes. He didn't understand why this stuck out to him so much. He couldn't tear away from his eyes, so warm, and so _blue_. "Don't deny it any longer, Mick. You get so lonely, don't you?" He leant in a bit, and he could smell the distinct scent of tobacco on his breath. "I am sure you're as touched starved as I am, out here. No beautiful women around to keep you company on those long nights." Sniper's grip was slack, and Medic took the opportunity to wrap an arm around his waist, the other, positioned on his shoulder as he faced him.

The distance between them was so sparse, Medic's face was nearly a blur, and he felt the warmth of the man's forehead against his own. He said nothing, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears as he realized how intense the urge to be touched was gripping at him, the contact of their foreheads alone being enough to make him yearn.

But then, a thought occurred to him.

_Medic didn't smoke._

That was when the ear-splitting snap of a crossbow echoed down the sewer, and The Medic gave a scream. Sniper reeled back as the other man fell to the ground, curled on the floor in pain, a large syringe lodged into his neck. It was releasing some sort of mysterious substance that made him convulse, and despite trying desperately to pull it out, it was already too deeply lodged in.

"_Sheisse_, I missed his head!"

Sniper looked down the pipe and his mouth fell open as he saw the steadily approaching figure of the _real_ RED Medic making his way towards them.

"Oh well." He said, coldly, bending down and smiling right into the disguised Spy's face with thinly veiled fury. "Your death will be much slower and painful this way."

"Doc…" The Sniper blustered, coming to a lot of realizations at once as he stared, enough that it was making his head spin. Instead of saying anything pertaining to what had just occurred, he settled with "You… you have a ruddy good aim with that thing."

Medic beamed, flushing with pride. "What a compliment coming from you!"

It was said with such sincerity that Sniper couldn't help find it endearing. "You saved my bacon, there. I should'a known it was that bloody spook."

"You wouldn't be the first to be fooled, don't you worry!" Medic looked down as the body below them twitched. Without any warning, he lifted a leg, and stomped on his clone's face, letting out a loud, furious exclamation. Another stomp, and Sniper winced as he heard the crack of a nose being broken.

"I think he's had enough-" Sniper tried, but to no avail.

The bonesaw came out. Medic's blue eyes were aflame, pupils dilating. "Don't worry, Mick, he cannot fight back. That toxin, as well as being poisonous, contains a muscle relaxant." He cackled, and Sniper could hear the underlying rage beneath the mirth. "It won't take long until respawn gives him his undeserved mercy, so I want to do as much as I possibly can before the chance is taken away!" The sight of the two of them, the brief glimpse he'd had of the man who was pretending to be him having his arms around him, butterfly knife in deft fingers positioned at his back as he took advantage of Sniper's lowered guard had made him so unspeakably angry. He wanted to channel all of that, all of that rage and indignation and_ jealousy_ and make him suffer.

Medic was about to strike, when he felt an arm wrap around his neck; not painfully, but firmly. Sniper had grabbed him in a sort of chokehold, and was pulling him away from The Spy.

"Settle down, now." Sniper muttered into his ear. Medic inhaled sharply, his entire body turning to jelly as he felt the breath against the shell of his ear. "You have places to be, doc. Y'have a job to do."

Medic whined. His temper evaporated in milliseconds, replaced with a whole new mix of emotions entirely. There was residual adrenaline coursing through his system from his fit of rage, as well as the promise of being able to torture a man to death. Testing his luck, Medic squirmed, and Sniper reacted by tightening his hold on him, which is exactly what he'd wanted.

"No. No, no." Sniper growled, making Medic exhale shakily. "Mate. Stop. We're done here."

"_Gott_, how I wish we weren't." Medic lamented.

"As much as I know y'wanna lay into him, we shouldn't waste anymore time." He paused, waited to see if the other man would continue to struggle, and then loosened his hold on him. "You good?"

"Oh, yes. I am excellent." Medic batted his eyelids, resting his cheek in a palm, playing up the coy body language to attempt to throw Sniper off, and embarrass him. The real Medic had those same lashes, and as he gave Sniper that silly, lovesick grin, his features almost looked cherubic. Such a contrast to his true nature.

Well, he seemed to have calmed down. Rather quickly, actually. It made Sniper somewhat suspicious. Reaching over, he grabbed Medic by the wrist, planning on leading him without letting him out of his sight until he knew there wasn't a chance for him to go back and finish the job. "Let's go, then."

Medic's eyebrows shot up. Feeling brave, he adjusted his fingers so that they were entwined with Sniper's, the latter not really seeming to notice. _They held hands so much already! _

On the ground, The Spy remained, praying death would come swiftly, wishing Sniper had just allowed The Medic to have his fun rather than having to listen and lay witness to_ that_.

* * *

"Aye, lads! Let's celebrate!" There was a thud as Demoman dropped a six pack of beer on the dining table, another one quickly joining it. "That victory of ours today is worthy of a few drinks, wouldn't y'say so?"

"I think anything is worth a few drinks as far as you're concerned." Sniper said from his place at the table, earning a light punch on the arm from the man in question.

"Y'not wrong!" He said jovially, pulling a bottle opener out from a pocket so he could snap the cap off. Demo handed the bottle to Sniper, reaching for his own. "Ya have'ta admit, though, we did bloody marvellous today! It was a close one, weren't it?"

"Hell yeah, it was!" Scout dove in, plucking a beer out without so much as a thank you. "Did you see me out there? Snagged that briefcase right outta their intel room, ran past all'a those BLUs before they even knew what hit'em! And boom, my cap won us the game. No need to thank me." He clinked his bottle against Sniper's, who simply exchanged a bemused smirk with the Demoman.

"Ooh, are we drinking tonight?" Sniper straightened up as he heard the familiar voice.

"Yeah. Y'might like this, doc, imported from Germany."

"Oohoo! Excellent!" He gently placed a hand on Sniper's shoulder as he reached in to take one. "I still need to take you to an Oktoberfest celebration when we're next stationed in Europe, Tavish."

"I'll hold ya to that! Lemme know if you have any good recommendations for the next batch, though!" He slung an arm around Medic, and before Sniper could say another word, the two men were off to their own corner of the table to have an intense chat about beer.

Sniper simply sat back down, unsure what to make of the fact that Medic hadn't so much as addressed him. He'd not had the chance to speak to the man at all after what had happened in the sewers. _Did Mick even want to bring it up? _

"Sniper?" He looked up, and saw Engineer making his way over. "You don't look busy, mind helpin' me get the table set?"

"Sure." Sniper nodded, following behind him. The scent of beetroot was palpable as he made his way in, and he discovered Heavy seeing to a large pot of borscht, singing a song as he worked that Sniper didn't understand the words to. His stomach growled, loudly, which caught Heavy's attention. It seemed the Russian was in a very good mood after their time on the battlefield today, and he laughed. "Little man is hungry for Heavy's cooking!"

Sniper gave a small nod, slightly abashed. "It _does _smell bloody good." He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper meal, but he always looked forward to when the mercs would take the initiative to create recipes from home.

"Here ya go." Engineer passed a beer towards Heavy. "Demo said tonight's for celebratin'."

"Thank you. Heavy could not agree more. Doktor and I were, er…" He paused, and then grinned when he remembered the right phrase. "On form, today, yes? Got through tiny BLU's toys like it was nothing! Bullets shred through baby men's skin! So much BLOOD."

"Yeah, the two'a you were a force to be reckoned with out there." Dell took a sip of his beer. "Was a busy afternoon for me, too. Damn Scout kept tryin' to rush in, duck behind a corner to pick at my sentry." He shook his head, looking disappointed at his pitiful attempts. "Kid should learn not to bring a peashooter up against an actual weapon." He mimed pumping a shotgun, which earnt another loud laugh from the giant. "The look on his stupid face…"

Sniper remained quiet, and although he'd initially been listening to what the two men were saying, his gaze was taken off of the eagerly chatting pair. He found himself staring towards where Medic and Demoman were sat. They were into their second beers already, and Demo still had the doctor in a halfway embrace. Medic's expression was warm, giddy, and he was resting his head in the crook of the other man's neck as he giggled at a joke the Scotsman had made. Something made Sniper's stomach turn at the sight. He inhaled through his nose, and then snapped his eyes away from it.

"How'd you do today, Mick?" Engineer asked.

He almost missed the question. "Hm? What? … Oh. Uh. Did… did alright, I suppose." His underwhelming reaction probably wasn't what they were expecting, but Sniper didn't want to talk too much about the day he'd had. He took a large gulp of his drink, hoping that he'd be able to relax once it hit his system.

"DINNER IS READY." Heavy bellowed to grab the attention of anyone in the base that might not be in immediate earshot. Sniper followed behind Engineer, as he'd agreed to assist with setting the table.

"Oh hell yeah, I dunno what that is, but it smells fuckin' good." Scout made to reach a finger in, but it was quickly slapped away by Heavy.

"Is borscht, Scout. And is very hot. You will burn finger."

"Borshed?" Scout repeated, butchering the pronunciation.

"Misha made dinner?" Medic sat up. "How wonderful! What a rare treat!"

Heavy flapped a hand, almost looking embarrassed, and then set about spooning out servings for every member of the team. Only a few of them joined those who remained at the table. Pyro made a habit of eating alone in his room, taking a bowl with a thumbs up directed at Heavy before making a hasty retreat. Spy came down a little while after, inspecting the spread, judging whether or not the meal would be worth consumption; he caught The Heavy's eye, who was glaring at him as if daring to make a snide comment. Clearly, Spy either knew better than to insult him, or he legitimately liked the look of what was being served up for dinner, taking his share with some bread. "A home cooked meal is a nice change from the usual rations. _Merci_, Heavy."

Approval from _Spy_? It seemed everyone in the base was in a fantastic mood tonight.

Sniper wished he could share their sentiments. All he was feeling was anxious, out of sorts. The urge to be alone again was getting too much. "I'm… gonna eat outside, I think." He muttered, in earshot of the Engineer.

"You doin' alright, Slim?"

_He was tired of people asking him things_. "Yeah. Yeah. Just… need a bit'a fresh air."

* * *

The summer heat was still thick, despite night having fallen. Blowing on his bowl of borscht, Mick took a tentative sip, tutting a bit as the mixture burnt his tongue. However, despite scalding him, he continued to swallow it down, liking how the intense heat stung and filled him up. It was good; Heavy was a pretty decent chef. All he really knew how to do was make stuff on a grill, or over an open fire. Picking up on how to roast game or cook things on a barbeque didn't require quite the same finesse.

Placing his dinner down next to him, he tilted his head up to gaze at the stars. The only sound was crickets, chirping away melodiously. That loneliness hit him once again as he thought about how those same stars had looked back home, in the enormous, expansive Outback. He thought about his parents. He thought about how he'd basically subscribed to being a loner for the rest of his days, because that's all he knew how to be.

Mick thought of Medic.

He thought of Medic, and drank.


	4. Chapter 4

Sniper made his way back inside to find that the kitchen and dining area were a lot quieter now. He took the time to clean his leftovers up before making his way to the rec room. The busy day the team had had was starting to take its toll, and the atmosphere had shifted from amicable excitement to sleepy contentment, in part because of the drinks. The turntable that sat in the corner with its small choice of records was currently playing some smooth jazz. Sniper liked jazz. It wasn't something many people knew, but he could play the sax pretty decently; maybe one day he'd perform for the team, but he'd not had the chance to see if the rowdy town of Teufort offered anywhere that sold them.

Deciding listening to some music for a bit would be the perfect thing to do before turning in, Sniper sat, and as always, he observed.

Scout and Soldier were looking through the young man's baseball cards; he seemed to be trying to explain (perhaps in vain) the significance of some of them, the words "limited edition" being thrown around a lot. After a few moments, Soldier tossed them away, scoffing, much to the ire of Scout who scooped them up and held them up to his chest, looking aghast. "Aw, c'mon, man! You're from the Midwest, ain'tcha? Baseball's popular up in Missouri!"

Engineer was situated on the floor not too far from the table where he seemed to be making small adjustments to a mini sentry. There were blueprints, tools and small pieces of the deconstructed machine laid out in methodical patterns around his person. Despite this, he took the time to engage the others in conversation every now and again, especially when it seemed as though an argument might start up.

"You know Soldier don't mean no offense, Scout." He said; Sniper admired the wealth of the Texan's patience, but he could tell he was starting to grow slightly weary of having to be the mediator to these manchildren constantly.

"Yeah, he does." Scout said, grumpily, watching Soldier give him a smug look. "See, look at'im!"

"Not my fault your pansy cards are-!"

Sniper saw him Engineer give a short sigh, and if it weren't for the goggles, Sniper knew he'd be glaring daggers at the pair of them, irritated that he had to spell out lessons these men should have learnt years ago in adolescence. "Soldier."

Soldier's smile faded, curling in on himself and looking very small, even compared to Engie, who was the shortest member on their team.

"Those cards mean a lot to Scout. Don't you think you should be a lil' bit nicer?" There was always something about Engineer's demeanor and tone that could get through to Jane, even when he was completely gone in terms of his unpredictable lucidity. In a way, he seemed to have an odd sort of authority over him. _Like a dad, almost._ Sniper thought.

"Uh... w-well." Jane stammered, looking sheepish. "You can't play poker with these cards! What's the point?!"

On the other side of the room, Sniper heard the loud booming laugh of the Heavy, and his gaze wandered. At the table sat Medic, Heavy, and Spy, with Demoman leisurely lying on a couch that was situated near them. Demo and Spy were telling a story that had the large man and the doctor breathless from laughter. The box of beers was in the middle of them, and Sniper felt like getting another one, rising up and stretching before making his way over there wordlessly.

The Scotsman slapped his hand against his leg, tears in his eyes. "What happened next, though! Ohhh, had me in stitches when 'e saw the stickies. He just gave up! Threw 'is 'ands in the air, he did!" He straightened up, and imitated the action he'd described. "And then! And then before I could even blow the bastart' up, in comes Spy!"

"That poor fool must not have been paying enough attention, ubering me like that." He said, exhaling smoke out on a few chuckles. "Or perhaps he was simply desperate."

"You put tiny man out of his misery, da?" Heavy asked, clearing his throat after he'd gotten his breath back.

Spy smirked. "Surely you know me better than _that_." He inhaled another drag, before continuing on. "I led him out of there, making him think he was safe and sound, that he'd narrowly avoided a brush with death." His eyes glimmered as he described his next steps. "Then, once his back was turned for only the briefest of seconds _that_ is when I took my chance."

"Not before lettin' out a cheesy one liner, though, am I right?" Demoman piped up.

"Mm… Yes." Spy admitted.

"Oh, do tell us what you said!" Medic interjected, looking excited to hear it.

Before Spy could say anything, there was a loud squeaking noise. Sniper jumped when he realized he'd stepped on what looked to be a tiny pink unicorn toy (with a slightly melted face), and the rest of the table looked up, only just noticing he was stood there.

"Oh, there you are, Sniper." Engineer said, seeming to have placated Soldier and Scout for the moment.

"Uh, hey, Truckie." Sniper mumbled, giving Pyro an apologetic grin as he snatched the toy from under his foot with what he assumed was an indignant glare sent his way. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

"Not at all, laddie!" Demoman called amicably. "Pull up a chair 'n have another beer with us!"

He decided to forego his plan of listening to music in quiet silence to continue drinking into the night along with the others; it would probably help him sleep better, even if his hangover would likely punish him for such indulgences come morning. Sniper reached into the middle, picking a beer up. A bottle opener was pushed into view, and he flicked his eyes up to meet the gaze of the Medic, who was holding it out to him. The man gave a tipsy half smile, cheeks flushed from laughing, hair slightly tousled.

Sniper thanked him, quietly, opening the bottle and making sure he sat in a place where Medic wouldn't be in his immediate eye line.

"Where was I?" The Spy asked; he wasn't having beer, but had a glass of fancy whisky on the rocks from what Sniper assumed was his private liquor cabinet. No one was allowed to touch his stash (much to Demoman's chagrin).

"The cheesy one liner." Medic said. "I want to hear it!"

"Of course." Spy gave a nod. "Let me see, the Medic had his back to me, and..." He paused, turning his head slightly to the figure on the floor nearby, which caught the attention of the others, who also began to stare at what Spy was watching.

Dell was twisting a wrench on a particularly stubborn bolt, and although his intention wasn't to interrupt, it seemed as though Spy didn't take kindly to the noise. After a few moments, he cleared his throat, which got Engineer's attention. At the sight of everyone staring, he flushed. "Uh, sorry about that, ya'll, shouldn't be a second."

"Must you do that right now?" Spy groused. Reaching over a long leg, Spy used the point of his shoe to flick Dell's toolbox shut.

"Hey!" Engineer plucked his goggles off his eyes, looking at him sourly. "I have to get this contraption in workin' order before next Monday!"

"It is distracting me from my story."

Dell huffed, clearly not amused. "Fine, fine." He began to tidy up. "I can take a hint. I'll set up downstairs if it's such a bother."

Spy's smug expression softened, slightly, almost looking a little forlorn. "Well, _no_… that's not quite what I meant."

"Engineer!" Medic piped in "Work hours are over, you should relax a bit. Doctor's orders!"

"But, doc, I gotta get this-!" He began, cut off by the rowdy encouragements of Demo, Heavy and Medic, insisting that he should loosen up and have some more drinks with them. Engie's face began stony, but as the cheering and whooping got a bit louder, the man couldn't help the small smile that crossed his features. Eventually, he stood, resigning himself to his fate as the three drunken men began cheering, clapping and hollering as their friend sat down with them, next to Spy. "Don't come cryin' to me when ya'll regret not havin' a sentry set up!" Engineer caught Sniper's eyes, and motioned to the group. "Can you believe these goofballs?"

"Yeah. I can, actually." Sniper said, with a thick laugh. "'Specially that one." He motioned over to Demo, who blinked his working eye and clicked his tongue, pointing a finger gun his way. "Was that meant to be a wink?"

"Oh, bloody hell… I keep forgettin' that don't work with one eye."

Sniper covered his mouth with a hand, his shoulders shaking as he tilted his head down.

"Are you laughin'?! Ye prick!" Demo looked on, reproachfully when his laughter intensified. "Oi, stop that, y'ruddy bastard!" Eventually, though, he couldn't help it, and also joined in, as did some of the others as they watched this exchange go down. "Y'laughin' at a half blind man, over 'ere! The hell is the matter with ye?"

Pulling off his aviators, Sniper took a deep breath. "Ohh… I'm sorry, mate, that was brilliant."

"Bloody loony." Tavish retorted.

Sniper couldn't help but catch Medic's eye again after he said that, who simply watched him with a twinkle in his eye. Not wanting to dwell, Sniper allowed a question that entered his mind divert the flow of conversation. "Hey, uh. Spook."

Spy raised an eyebrow, almost looking surprised to be addressed by him of all people. "_Quoi?_"

"What's it like?" At his questioning frown, he elaborated. "Y'know. Bein' ubered." It was something he'd always been curious about but had never had the opportunity to ask.

Spy's gaze flicked towards Medic as well, for the briefest of moments. "Wait… have you never…?"

Something about how shocked Spy sounded at this revelation made Sniper backpedal. _So much for taking the focus off of himself._ "Well, I mean… no, but I can't be the only bloke here that hasn't been…" He scanned around, catching the eyes of all the other men in the rec room (if they didn't have them obscured, anyway), but no one spoke up to confirm what he'd said. "Alright." Sniper mumbled, shrinking down in his seat a bit. "No big deal…"

"S'alright, Sniper." Dell began, sensing Sniper's awkwardness at suddenly being put on the spot. "I suppose since… yknow. You ain't exactly in the thick of it much…"

"W-well…!" Mick felt the need to defend himself, as he always did when his involvement in their work was questioned. "Neither are you! Yer usually set up near the intel, aint'cha?"

"I mean... depends where we're based, usually." Engineer drank, before continuing on. "There have been times where I switch tactics 'n… yknow. Get on in there with that lil thing." He motioned to the mini sentry that lay a few feet away. "Sometimes, it's even just me and sawbones out there on the battlefield. That can lead into us needin' to use the uber up to get on outta there in one piece."

"Maybe you'd be ubered if you got out there for once, camper!" Came Soldier's gruff voice from the other side of the room. "Thought you were Australian. Don't you start wrestling crocodiles in kindergarten?"

Sniper's jaw tightened. "My peers did, but I wasn't— look, can we just forget I said anything? Don't matter." _Seriously, why did it feel like everyone always needed to be talking about his backstory? There were much more interesting lives led by the other mercenaries on the team, but their's weren't being studied with a fine toothed comb constantly. _

"Would you like to be?"

Sniper looked up. Medic was addressing him. He should probably say something, before the silence got awkward. "I mean… if the… occasion should arise where I need to be-?"

"I can make that happen for you, Mick!" He seemed incredibly eager at the prospect, leaning in a little closer, chin resting on steepled fingers, addressing him with an almost businesslike tone of voice. The lamp that shone over their heads was angled so that his glasses glimmed, throwing his face into a sinister shadow. The effect was rather daunting. "I would be very happy to let you experience it for yourself, and see how you respond to such a thing."

Sniper gave a half-hearted chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, despite the concerned looks from everyone else in view. "Who knows, maybe I'll react badly to it, knowin' my luck."

"Perhaps you will..." Medic's grin could be heard in his voice. "But _that_ is for me to observe." Then, as if a switch had been flicked off, Medic went back to jovial, smiling ever so sweetly, and it was almost worse. "Ooh, this is so exciting!" He clasped his hands together. "To watch all of you experience the uber for the first time was fascinating! And you enjoyed it so much, didn't you?" The Heavy nodded when Medic caught his eye.

"To answer your earlier question, Mick." Spy continued, tapping him on the back of his hand to get his attention. "I suppose you could say it feels very… euphoric."

"Feels like yer whole body's buzzin!" Demoman supplied, the contents of his drink sloshing around as he lifted it up. "Like a REALLY good shot of whisky that hits ya in just the right way."

"Your whole cellular structure actually reforms for a period of eight seconds!" Engineer looked pleased to be able to explain the science behind it, even if perhaps not everyone there would get what he was talking about. "Your whole body, y'cells, bones, organs, everything becomes a material that's impenetrable, harder than titanium or even diamond."

"Bloody hell… how'd you get it to do that, doc?" Sniper questioned, actually somewhat impressed.

"Completely by accident! I'm not actually sure how it works!" He let out a chortle. "But if it is not broken, don't fix it, _ja_?"

"Well, that's… reassuring." Sniper muttered, grimacing, the sarcasm seeming to be lost on Medic. "How does turnin' into… whatever it is that ya turn into feel at all good?"

"Well, from what I can tell, the experience would be _excruciating_ if it wasn't for the mist that's released from the medigun! Once the uber is charged, the painkilling effects intensify a thousand fold!" He, just like Engineer, looked excited to be able to explain all of this in depth to a captive audience. "Thus, you are fuelled with euphoria, as Spy said."

"So." Scout interjected. "Lemme get this straight. You're sayin that when yer ubered… Y'get hard as a rock, and it feels really good?"

There was a snort, and Spy began coughing into his whisky, having taken a sip just as Scout had finished his sentence. This reaction got the rest of the team going in one way or another (save for Soldier, who seemed to have completely missed the joke).

"I suppose you could say that, yes!" Medic confirmed after his giggling fit had died down. "Sound like something you'd be interested in?" He waggled his eyebrows at Sniper, the latter of whom said nothing and ducked his head down, suddenly feeling hot in the face.

Spy's face was also red; however, this may have been from attempting to suppress an undignified choking fit. Engineer thumped him on the back to help him breathe, but not without letting out a little quip to dig the knife in a bit more. "Looks like _somebody's_ got a dirty mind."

By now, Scout's obnoxious cackling had soured Spy's mood. He did not appreciate losing his composure like that, especially over a comment so juvenile. "Oh, _suce-moi_." He grumbled, pressing the glass to his lips again with a frown.

"You'll have to ask nicer than that, buddy." Engineer said, before he could stop himself.

"Oh, really?" Spy queried, a bewildered smile on his face as he turned to look at Dell like he'd just had an incredible revelation. "_I'm_ the one with the dirty mind?"

Dell didn't meet his gaze, but he could tell that the Spy was staring at him. Sniper could hear them, even if no one else seemed to, but he wasn't about to register that he had. In fact, when he caught the eye of the Demoman, the Scotsman was biting on his lips, eyes widening as if trying to supress himself from cracking up.

"Well, I'm gonna tidy up this 'ere girl right quick." Dell could tell he'd caused a scene with that slip of the tongue. "'Scuse me a few seconds, fellers." He ducked down, kneeling on the floor and picking up the pieces of his work haphazardly, dropping a couple of tools a few times.

"Allow me, Dell." Spy said, smoothly, making sure to stand as close as possible to the other man without it seeming obvious.

"N-no!" Engineer gave a chuckle. He seemed to be trying to brush it off, but his burning face gave away far too much. "No, it's fine, I'm fine. I'll be back in a minute."

Spy watched him go. Looking down, the Frenchman noticed that he'd left a small screwdriver and a few odds and ends behind. Spy picked them up, and adjusted his tie. "I will be back shortly as well."

After a short silence, where the team pretended to not know what had just happened, Soldier snapped up with a loud gasp, causing everyone to look at him in alarm. "WAIT." He barked. "I GET IT." Everyone was waiting for his verdict with bated breath, worried he was about to say what they had all hoped nobody would. "Scout made a joke about erections!"

Scout started cackling again, which was immediately followed by the entire team, unable to stop themselves now that Soldier had unintentionally blasted a figurative rocket through the tension.

"Nice catch, dummy!" Scout said patting the proud looking Jane on the back with a hand. "I mean, took ya, what, ten minutes? New record, I'd say!"

* * *

Exhaustion had hit them not too long after. Despite the fact that they were mercenaries in their prime of health and fitness, nearly all of them (save for Scout, and possibly Pyro) were men in their middle age or older that had worked a hard day and needed their rest.

Engineer hadn't returned, despite him saying he would be back shortly. His absence seemed to have gone unnoticed by everyone else, and Mick had to wonder if Spy's quick retreat after him was related. Pyro had turned in not long after, as well as Soldier, who had a strict military bedtime that he stuck to even on weekends. Demo had passed out on the couch, and Heavy had taken the time to help the man back to his room, something they'd learnt from past experience was probably the best decision. Leaving Demoman to roam around in a room they all used regularly when he got to the point of passing out didn't bode well. Broken (or soiled) furniture could very easily be the result of it.

Then, he'd come back for Medic, who by now was slumped over the table and gently singing along to the record playing the jaunty Wayne Newton version of "Danke Shoen". When Heavy heaved the doctor over his shoulder, he gave a bewildered hum, and then gave Sniper a wave goodbye, smiling at him with that dazed and affectionate grin. "_Danke schoen, my darling!_" He chimed. Sniper pretended not to notice.

Scout, however, had, and was very quick to comment on it. "Fuckin' creep."

"Shouldn't you be off to bed, lad?" Sniper asked, not wanting to dwell on why that mean-spirited jab at Medic's quirky behaviour irritated him somewhat.

"What are you, my Ma?" Scout said through a yawn. "Fine, I'm headin' out, but not coz you told me to." Once Scout was out of earshot (or so he thought), Sniper heard him mumble. "_Jackin' off's more fun than spending time with you old farts anyways._"

Sniper sometimes wished he hadn't been graced with such good hearing. Trying to get those thoughts purged from his mind, he rose up, and changed the record back. Sniper stayed in the rec room, enjoying the quiet. He didn't feel like making the trek outside to his van, so he sleepily sat in his chair, glasses and hat perched in his lap. The jazz that played on the turntable was turned down low, low enough so that it only reached his ears. It was clear he was on the verge of falling asleep, and that was alright with him in this current moment. The warm haze the four beers he'd had made him as lax as a cat by the fireplace, and for the first time, in a long time, anxiety and stress weren't needling at him. It was… nice. The evening had turned out to be quite a pleasant experience, despite what had gone down hours prior.

Sniper was startled awake when he heard the sound of something in the kitchen clattering to the floor. The clock on the wall read two thirty, indicating about forty-five minutes had passed after he'd first settled in his chair. Now wide awake, he felt it would probably be a good idea to investigate the source of the disturbance. Cautiously, he approached the kitchen door, pushing it open quietly and poking his head inside.

"_Ach du lieber Himmel!_" Medic had his back to him, picking up the clutter, which consisted of broken shards of a crockery bowl he'd accidentally knocked off the side. He kept muttering words that Sniper only barely recognized from having lived in the same quarters as the older man for as long as he had. He quietly approached, and then, once he was close enough, he grabbed the man from behind, spun him around, and pinned him. Medic, who had been caught completely off guard, let out a gasp, and then a winded "_oof!_" once his back hit the wall. Confused, and a little dazed, he wriggled and writhed and attempted to push at Sniper's face. "Let go! Let go of me! Help me! TEAM!"

"Medic_— doc_, it's me!" Sniper hissed in a stage whisper, trying to get the man to calm down. The panicked response and the attempts to alert their colleagues indicated to Mick that this wasn't a Spy, because a Spy wouldn't want more witnesses.

"_S-Sniper_? What on earth are you doing?!" Medic was looking at him with bleary eyes, clearly still very intoxicated.

"Thought you were a Spy."

"_Mein Gott_, no!" Medic said, attempting to laugh off the heart attack the other man had almost given him. "A Spy would not be so clumsy, _schatz_. You are so jumpy today, aren't you?"

"I have every right to be!" Sniper retorted, indignantly. "After today-! I… wait, what did you call me?" He'd still hadn't released his hold on the doctor, palms pressing him to the wall by his shoulders as he surveyed the German's face with a suspicious snarl.

Medic gave a guilty smile. "Jumpy?"

"No. What was it you said—_schatz_?" A flicker in Sniper's memory made him recall that was exactly what The BLU Spy had called him during their exchange down in the sewer. He bristled. Was it a coincidence? Or…

"Heh, forget I said anything, it was a simple slip of the tongue!" Medic's voice cracked, giving an airy, dazed sort of laugh that illustrated very well how out of it he was.

"… How the hell do I know you ain't a spy?" He growled, his fingernails digging into the other man's skin.

"Mm… you can't, can you?" There was a pause, and then, he looked right at Sniper, with sudden clarity that completely threw him. "… _Perhaps you should kill me, just to make sure?_"

Sniper winced. It became clear to him in that moment that the man in front of him was who he said he was, because Spy wouldn't say something so inflammatory, in case they were likely to act on it. It also wasn't the first time Medic had asked for something like that, and he felt, with how he'd been acting as of late, it wouldn't be the last. Sniper let out a frustrated growl and backed off. "Enough. Enough a'that."

"What?" Medic asked, shifting back to an innocent, inquisitive smile.

It drove Sniper to distraction; he felt as though he was being mocked. "Enough of—tryin' to mess with me head like this!" His eyes burned with fury; all the emotions he'd kept bottled up since their first interaction in the medical wing had led to this outburst, but the tipping point was likely the beers. "What do you get out of this? Do you get off to it? I bet'cha do, you seem like the type of bloke that gets 'is kicks from drivin' people barmy!"

Medic continued to smile as Sniper rattled off, not deterred in the least bit by how furious he was. "I did not realize I had made you so angry…" Medic said, softly. When Mick looked up, he saw that sympathetic look in his eyes again, a hand pressed to his own cheek as he surveyed him with a furrowed brow, shaking his head. "That was not my intent. Oh _dear_…!"

However, there was something about his body language that made Mick feel as though he wasn't genuinely sorry for what he'd done. It was too over the top, it felt staged. "What is it you want, mate?" Sniper asked him, almost imploringly. _Why him in particular? Why was he so interesting to The Medic?_

"I came down here to get a drink of water."

Sniper just stared at him, and just stayed frozen as the doctor casually made his way to the fridge.

"Didn't realize you were still up as well." Medic stated, acting oblivious. "You should probably get some sleep soon, even if it is the weekend tomorrow."

"T-that's it, then?" Sniper finally spluttered, and his cheeks flushed when he heard the crack in his voice.

Medic looked back at him, puzzled, and sipped his water. "Yes? Did you need anything else?"

_No he didn't. He really shouldn't have needed more than that. He shouldn't have needed confirmation or an explanation from him. Sniper could have rejected him at any time, and he should have already done so. But, that couldn't have been all Medic had to say to him, now that they were finally completely alone. Not after all the flirting, the not so subtle hints, the following him into his small sniper nests to seek his company out. The words, the assurances that he knew Sniper better than anyone else truly could._

_It hit him again that Medic hadn't been there for the exchange with the Spy. Medic wasn't there for the significance that moment held._

_Perhaps that was a good thing, though._

Suddenly feeling nauseous, Sniper shook his head. "… No."

"Well, I will bid you farewell, then!" Medic chimed, and then left without a second's hesitation.

Sniper ruffled a hand through his hair, turning his back to the door and covering his face as he let out a disgruntled sigh. Mick just felt like running, running out into the expansive desert where he would get lost and be totally alone. Be in his element where he felt in control again. Just like the Outback. Just like home. At the end of the corridor, Medic gave a knowing smirk. He could tell Sniper wanted more from him, now. He wasn't stupid, he had picked up on Mick's subtle changes in behaviour towards him, how much their dynamic had changed in just a few short days. _Misha's advice was right on the mark, as it always was._


End file.
